


A Nest of One's Own

by HQ_Wingster



Series: The Lion, the Snake and the Serpent (for good measure) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adorable, Affection, Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Bonding, Character Study, Crack Treated Seriously, Drama, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Harry Potter is a Good Boyfriend, Home, Inspired by Poetry, Late Night Conversations, Living Together, M/M, Protective Nagini (Harry Potter), Relationship Study, Senses, Some Plot, Teasing, Tom Riddle Is So Done, Understanding, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: A nest of one’s own is not a pile of twigs easily threatened by the wind, ready to collapse at any moment; but rather, it’s a hole — baked wonderfully by the sun; laden with many rocks, tree limbs and mice. Where to survive here would be a pleasure through many a First Frost, where to raise and to die here would be the dream for any hunter. So as one sees it, my Speaker has done well on this front: having chosen one with a Mate, far warmer than the sunFinding a nest of one’s own is not easy, Nagini knows, but she is proud of what her Speaker has selected as his home. Even though at times, she’ll tease and will drive him up a wall.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Nagini & Tom Riddle
Series: The Lion, the Snake and the Serpent (for good measure) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129934
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	A Nest of One's Own

**Author's Note:**

> This concept has been bubbling inside of me for quite a while now and because of it, I’ve been wanting to write Nagini into more of these stories whenever I can. I just love the idea of writing from her point-of-view and her spending time with Harry and basking with Tom by the fireplace. And not only that, just exploring a bit of her motherly side and how she kind of views and treats Tom as if he’s a rambunctious hatchling, who she only wants the best for.
> 
> So pretty much, that’s why I’m writing this and I think it’s really cute. And if not, very funny because my gosh, writing for Nagini was a whirlwind of an experience.

It had been one of those nights where there was summer in the firelight, where there was winter in the shadows, and where there was leisure in the dark. As lounged and quite still as she basked near the fire, there were remnants of rabbit fur still pressed along her jaw. Which she could lick had she wanted, which she could flick if so desired, but Nagini had done neither while resting within her coils. Where one could find her beneath her lungs while she was tucked above her stomach, strung together and overlapped like a pastry one could purchase.

And while she was void of any seeds and from the glaze of rich butter and was about as crumbly as a stone if unearthed during winter, she was as lovely as a _‘pretzel’_ and was as comforting as a _‘doughnut’_ — words: which on their own, meant nothing but nonsense; but upon hearing them from her Speaker, she regarded them with some interest. And blinking if she could while flicking out her tongue, Nagini mused she wouldn’t make it very easy for her humans. That she would bite them without notice and would poison them without a thought, that she would crush them without mercy and would strike them where it hurt, if either Speaker or his Mate had thoughts about hunting her.

And that if she so desired and had found she was still hungry, it wouldn’t be hard to strangle them, like the rabbit she had done earlier. Where every bone within its being had buckled underneath her, where every scream it might’ve had would’ve brought her great pleasure, and where the passing in its eyes found the beginnings of her mouth — she had swallowed it within minutes before lazing all about. And while tired but content, warmed by her meal: she found a nook along a shoulder while her humans began to feed, and she flickered at their cheeks as they basked near each other; finding fullness within a gaze that food itself couldn’t provide and finding warmth through the other that could last them all their lives.

And indeed, to be blind would be to not see how they loved each other while the same couldn’t be said if you couldn’t gather her humor when Nagini turned her little head and observed her fine Speaker, watching his every breath as he lounged near the fire. Snout buried within a book and occasionally, it would flicker — brushing past all his senses when he was about done with its attention. So because of that, he didn’t look or had regarded his fair companion while she was sprawled near the hearth and filled their silence with her murmurings. And so in a tone that would’ve been teasing, if _Parseltongue_ could’ve carried it, Nagini lolled her head back and hissed that she would do it.

_“Do what?”_ Speaker asked, face scrunched to her notice. Never once looking up to catch the glee behind her eyelids, but she caught how he flickered as he turned to a new page — gaze locked onto something while she raised her pointed head.

_“Do this,”_ Nagini hissed, finding purchase upon her folds, and had she been gifted with a smile, she would’ve worn it right about now. As she tilted, as she leaned, as she cozied beside her body — like a woman within a dress, slouching with her legs crossed — while constructing a narrative that was as sweet as she herself. How for instance: she could wander and feel a hunger deep within her while gliding across the downy of one of her Speaker’s smaller nests, and she could swallow the taller male before rearing towards his Mate; devouring them within minutes and without a breath of hesitation. And _oh,_ if she could laugh, she would’ve thrown her head back when she jeered that they would last her a few weeks, if not longer.

However, if she were honest and if reality permitted, hunger would still haunt her, even after consuming them. For there wasn’t much to begin with, for it would take a while to kill them, and because her dear humans weren’t as hearty as her prey stock: where they wouldn’t last her three days while a rabbit could stay a week, where she’d find herself even hungrier because it took more effort just to eat them.

So there was a sigh and a pout and both were pitiful, there was a thrash and a few wiggles — more playful than anything else — when Nagini jabbed that they were thin and that if need be, she would stuff them. That she would share every leg and every head from all her hunts until her Speaker and his Mate were about as plump as a rabbit, preparing for First Frost and every subsequent English winter. So that during Fresh Green or rather, Spring if one were human, there would be many little hatchlings growing soft from their nurture while the bearers to their lives would grow larger to protect them.

And as for any animal, that was love — stripped to its barest components, and it was one she could relate to and could express towards her humans. That if her Speaker or his Mate or if both were turned to snakes: she’d be pitied to just end them so that another wouldn’t be disheartened because a meal that didn’t fill you was a meal you shouldn’t be having and because she loved them with a fierceness that only a snake could comprehend, Nagini knew that no one else could bear the weight of killing them. And if skin forbid, they were hatchlings and if somehow, they were her own: she’d make them feed on as many rats as it would take for them to grow strong. And if they were weak and skinny, still — after everything she had done — she’d have no choice but to eat them so that they were safe within her.

So that the world would never see the weakest hunters it would ever meet, so that a rabbit or a fowl or another snake wouldn’t die laughing. And just the thought of that had her writhing when she hissed into the darkness, wondering aloud if it was time to change their nest and territory. Because obviously, _this one_ was rather lacking for a certain need and that a nest worth its moss would’ve amended this for its beings.

So dear, dear skin — there was nothing left to do, but to babble about the good times and to prepare for abandonment. And if her Speaker had his senses, he would’ve noticed and done the same. For a home without its nurture was not a home to begin with, for a home without its comfort was merely a hole for one to die in. And in her cries of great woes, as she floundered all about, collapsing beneath her coils and glancing if she was noticed, Nagini breathed into the air if there was anything that could be done about this. And even muttered if she was the reason why her humans were rather thin and at the thought, she was wheezing as if to cry if that could happen — drenched in a performance that would’ve landed her many accolades. But the only one that mattered and the only one that stuck was the frown from her Speaker when he finally looked at her, and it was boring through the coils she had placed in-between them. Picking at her, like the talons from a hawk she survived from.

Because although she had attention and was spared from disregardment, her Speaker wasn’t keen as he lowered his little book. And his stare — look away, a stone could melt if it felt this — was no different than a Basilisk’s, except this one had the advantage of freezing snakes, as well as humans. Or rather, just Nagini while there was one human who was unaffected as he shuffled out from a den and was curious as to what was happening. And if anyone else were to stumble or were a stranger to this scene, they would’ve found a large snake playing dead by the fireplace while her human was unfazed, poking tenderly at her tail. And by _‘tenderly’_ , it was _‘annoyingly’_ because he poked with great abandon: much like a hatchling from a human, poking slugs until they popped. 

But to Harry, Speaker’s Mate, there was more to this than just that as he approached his fellow nestmates and soothed them with his warmth: running a softness through the fur, bunched and curled from Speaker’s head; rubbing sweetly at Nagini’s snout and picking at the fluff that lingered there. Until melting from their bones was the playfulness that they had, the sharp pangs of their amusement when they bothered without end. For what began this was bordem and wanting attention from the other, not wanting to sleep for another moment when there was someone for her to bother. While for Speaker, he was a simple male as he lounged here with his book, wanting nothing but the silence he had been granted for a few hours. And so when the playing grew rough and even feral after a moment, Speaker finally relented and teased Nagini just to suit her and in response, here she was: playing stiff while she flickered. Flinching — every now and then — as one would do towards their hatchlings, in teaching them how to hunt and when their prey had gone and died.

More than amused as she did so and exasperated if she were honest because of the weak comings from her Speaker, having expected more from her human — from the hatchling she took care of and he would always be one if she had her way although he grew since meeting her. For not a night nor a day could ever pass without her wondering of what would’ve happened to the little hatchling from summers ago if she found him: when he was lost and without a home, hungry for something more, desperate for anything that could’ve clawed him out from his hole. Until now, here he was: a grown human and not alone, a fair serpent in his own right, and a tender mate for another while they shared a wonderful home.

As he hissed in all the ways that were foreign to a snake, chasing after the warmth drifting softly from his Mate, until he was eased back and curled like a tendril towards the sun — winding its every finger to be closer to what it loved. And in that glow, there was a fullness that was foreign to most animals: one that food could never give for it touched, not the stomach, but the essence of another until they knew not what was hunger. And perhaps that were the mice, were the fowl, was the snake, was the food one would hunt for because it was near their chosen nest.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://joeys-piano.tumblr.com/) |[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/joey_wingster)
> 
> I’m not sure if others of y’all can relate to this, but a fond little quirk my family has is that we tease each other as if we’re food and affectionately comment that we would cook each other. So that’s what I was going with when Nagini went on her spiel about wanting to eat Tom and Harry, but lamenting that she couldn’t do it since she wanted them plump and hefty. Because to animals and for certain families, they prefer to express their love by making sure you’re stuffed and happy.
> 
> Also, it’s a lot easier writing from anyone else’s POV as long as they’re not Harry’s, so I’m going to try to work on that. Because I can’t keep sidelining him forever!


End file.
